


Phantasm

by madders



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-12
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 19:53:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madders/pseuds/madders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in AtS S5, when Spike is still a ghost...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Spike watched in silence as Angel tossed and turned in his bed, obviously suffering from a nightmare.

Spike knew only too well what that was like. He wondered what Angel was remembering.

Perhaps it was watching himself as he ripped the throat out of one of his nameless victims, bathing in the blood as it gushed from the ripped arteries.

Or perhaps it was a memory of hell. That thought sent a shudder through him.

He watched Angel’s face screw up in pain and ached to be able to touch that beautiful face and smooth those lines away.

He had thought he had hated being incorporeal before, but now it was intolerable.

Because now he was in his own nightmare- unable to stop the one he loved more than anything from suffering, unable to help him.

He silently slipped across to Angel’s bed, settling himself beside him and ghosting his hands across Angel’s face as if he could touch him and ease his pain away, tears in his own eyes at the futility of his attempts.

Angel whimpered as if in pain and Spike felt the tiny sound cut through him like a knife to his undead heart.

For his sire to make a cry such as that, the pain must have been truly excruciating.

He began to whisper to his sire, trying to calm him with his voice, as he had been unable to do with his hands.

Angel’s agitation increased, mumbling seemingly nonsensical words which increased in volume until Spike could clearly make them out.

“No. No. Don’t. Don’t leave me please. No. No.”

“Angel. Wake up please. Angel.” Spike begged, with no response.

“Please don’t leave me. I love you.”

“Angel.” Spike’s voice was full of pain. He figured Angel was dreaming of Buffy.

“No don’t. I love you. Please don’t leave me. Please... WILL.” Angel screamed as he bolted up in bed, his body passing through Spike’s ghostly form.

Angel blinked as he returned to consciousness, his body shivering from the remembered nightmare.

A soft sound behind him made him turn, to find his childe sitting on the bed behind him, tears streaming from his shocked blue eyes.

He reached up to touch him, momentarily forgetting his childe’s state, until his fingers passed through his childe.

“Will.” He whispered softly, his voice breaking with his own tears.

“Liam.” Spike’s voice was small and equally quiet.

“I...” Angel began, only to be stopped by Spike as he raised his phantom fingers to put them against Angel’s lips.

Angel closed his eyes and tried to feel the touch he remembered so well.

He opened his eyes once more and looked into his childe’s eyes, loosing himself in them. He tried to convey everything in his expression, no longer having the blood link with his childe that he had once been able to rely on.

Spike stared at Angel, unable to break the piercing stare. Finally he smiled. A small, gentle smile, that Angel hadn’t seen for over a century.

“Me too Liam.” He whispered. “Me too.”

With that small admission they both settled back on the bed, taking comfort in each others presence, and holding onto the faint hope that one day they would be able to have more.


	2. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set directly after the events of Hellbound

Angel paced the floor in his bedroom, dressed in his pyjama bottoms, still wound up from the events of the day despite the long shower he had taken already. He'd had great satisfaction from locking Pavayne up in the cell, knowing that he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone again. But his hands still itched to wrap around the psychotic man's throat and squeeze the life out of him for daring to touch his boy.

He rubbed his knuckles absentmindedly as he remembered how scared he had been that he was about to lose Will, when they had only just come to some understanding. Oh, they still argued and sniped at each other, and to the outside world Angel was sure that it seemed that they still hated each other, but their arguments now were all tinged with humour and knowing glances. Angel had even started enjoying the verbal sparing with his ghostly childe.

But late at night, when Angel couldn't sleep, and Spike wanted someone to talk to, then they finally let their respective walls down and allowed their feelings to surface. It had taken several long nights of talking, each allowing the other the opportunity to finally get long held grudges off of their chests.

It had almost been fortunate that Spike was incorporeal, as it meant that neither of them could be distracted- unable to touch each other, they could neither fight nor fuck, the two things that normally happened whenever they got together.

After a while however, Spike's non-physical state became more of a problem, as they had moved on to a new understanding, and they wanted, needed to be able to touch each other.

The fact that they were unable to even touch had been driving them both crazy. It wasn't that Angel wanted to have sex with his childe, though they both wanted it desperately, Angel just wanted somebody to touch him.

He loved the others in his little gang, he really did, but sometimes he just wished they would touch him. A pat on the hand, a hug, anything. He had always been a tactile vampire, it was one of the things he had denied himself after gaining his soul. But now, he just wished that he could have it back, nowadays it seemed the only time he was touched, was when he was getting punched.

As he completed yet another circuit of his room, he stopped to stare out of the window at the lights below him. The sign of humans going about their nightly business, getting on with their lives and most likely returning home to their loved ones.

He rested his forehead on the glass and sighed heavily.

“Feelin’ sorry for yourself again luv?” The soft voice came from behind him and felt like a caress on his skin.

Angel shivered softly at the sensation before turning around and facing his childe, a rueful smile on his face.

“Maybe.”

Spike snorted and turned away from Angel, settling his ghostly form on the end of the bed.

He patted the space beside him, and Angel pushed away from the windows and joined him, perching on the edge of the bed, facing his childe.

“You okay?” He asked Spike, looking him over for any evidence of injuries.

“‘m fine.” Spike replied. “He had me worried for a minute, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle.” He shrugged. “How ‘bout you?”

“I’m okay. You worried me a bit, especially when you disappeared and we couldn’t find you.”

“I was still there, you just couldn’t see me.” Spike replied. “Pavayne had wanted it that way, so he made it happen. He wanted me alone.”

“I wanted to pulverize him for trying to take you away from me.” Angel admitted.

“I know luv, that’s why I had to stop you. He was an irritating git anyway, I don’t fancy having to deal with him again.”

“You won’t have to. He’s not going to be dealing with anybody ever again.” Angel said firmly.

“Good.”

They lapsed into silence for a minute, both staring at the wall, lost in thought. After a few moments Spike looked over at his Sire’s tense jaw and decided to break the silence.

“It wasn’t all bad though.” He told Angel, smiling at Angel’s look of shock and disbelief.

“I learnt a few new tricks.” He added softly, as he placed his fingers against Angel’s lips to stop him speaking.

Angel’s mouth fell open as he felt his childe’s ghostly touch, and his eyes flew up to see the mischievous glint in Spike’s eyes.

“How?”

“I just have to want it enough. Bend reality to my will.” He answered as he ran his fingers across Angel’s cheek and up into his hair.

Angel closed his eyes at the gentle fingers in his hair, and he groaned in pleasure as he felt the fingertips rubbing his scalp just how he liked it. He felt the fingers gently pulling him forward, and his eyes flew open once again as he felt the soft press of lips against his.

“Will.” Angel groaned, his mouth falling open and allowing Spike’s tongue to gently probe into his mouth.

He reached up to pull him closer, and was disappointed when his hands went straight through.

Spike pulled back as he felt Angel’s hands pass through him and sighed as Angel frowned in disappointment.

“C’mon luv.” He whispered sliding up the bed and concentrating on pulling the covers back.

Angel watched him for a moment before standing up and sliding into the bed, letting Spike pull the covers up over him. Before he could say anything, Spike had plopped himself on the bed beside him. He watched in astonishment as Spike’s duster disappeared, and he smiled as he felt the weight of Spike’s arm across his chest as his other hand wrapped back in his hair.

“Sleep luv.” Spike whispered, as he laid his head against Angel’s chest, pressing soft kisses against Angel’s chest.

Angel closed his eyes and took in the feeling of his childe’s comfortable weight against him and sighed, feeling the love in the touch and letting it lull him to sleep, safe in the knowledge that someone cared enough to touch.


	3. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set directly after the Cup of Perpetual Torment incident

Angel walked wearily out of the elevator, heading for his apartment. He was bloody, beaten and sore; and wanted nothing more than to take a shower and go to bed for a week.

He was walking around in a daze, partly from the fight, but mostly because he still couldn't believe that Spike had actually beaten him. After more than 120 years, it had finally happened. Now even he could not deny that Spike was a master in his own right.

But where did that leave him?

For so long he had been the strongest, the most powerful of the two of them. The dominant force. But after the events of the night, he was no longer sure of himself.

Letting himself into the apartment he closed the door behind him firmly, shutting out the rest of the world. Leaning back on the door for a moment, he grimaced at how sore his back was and pushed off and padded towards the bathroom.

He stopped short as he reached his bedroom, staring at the small figure sitting on his bed and twisting the fabric of his top in his fingers.

**********

Spike looked up at Angel's entrance and they locked eyes for a moment before Angel moved away and headed for the bathroom.

Spike watched him go, totally unsure of what he was going to do next. He had become completely overwhelmed by the events of the day. He had been shocked to have suddenly become corporeal after spending so long unable to touch.

And then there had been that whole thing with the Cup of Eternal Torment. He scowled in disgust at the name. Like anyone would call it something like that anyway. No self-respecting prophecy would have such a poncy name for something like that.

He was more mad at himself for getting caught up in the whole thing and not seeing right through it at the start, before he and Angel had practically killed each other.

He rubbed at his jaw as he heard the shower start, and he was immediately flooded with thoughts of naked Angel. He shook his head to clear the image. He wanted nothing more than to go in there, but first he had to figure out why he had allowed himself to be drawn so far that he had almost killed Angel, the man he loved. He wasn't stupid, despite the image that he projected to the outside world.

But they had played them so well that both he and Angel had gotten caught up in the fallacy. It was like they had opened him up and exposed his deepest need- the need to prove to himself and everybody else that he was Angel’s equal. And to let Angel look at him as such, rather than the idiot childe he was still seen as by many.

He had stepped out of Angel’s long shadow once before, when Angel had first become souled. He had risen and stood on his own two feet, against all the odds. But when he had become souled himself, he had once more felt the weight of Angel’s shadow settle over him.

No matter what he had tried, he had been unable to shake the feeling that Angel was better than him.

Until today.

But in the end was it worth it? Spike had to wonder.

Was it worth beating his sire into a pulp to prove it?

And was it worth losing him? Because the way things were looking, that was exactly what he had done.

**********

Angel pressed his forehead into the shower wall, letting the water soothe his neck and shoulders. The wound in his shoulder stung, but it felt good- let him know he wasn’t completely dead. In the undead sense. He shook his head. He wasn’t even making sense to himself anymore.

He felt completely disconnected from everything, and everyone. He wished he had never heard of the Shansu prophecy. Sometimes he felt he was happier before it. The elusive reward of humanity it offered was a high price to pay if it meant this.

He shook his head, trying to clear the depressive thoughts from his mind. But through it all he could hear his demon whispering that he had lost his childe and it was all his fault. If only he had let Angelus out, his demon whispered; then he would have put little William back in his place. He wouldn’t have dared to go up against him again- if he had survived the encounter, of course.

Angel shook his head again, telling his demon to shut up- he would never be let loose again if Angel had anything to do with it.

‘Fine. But you’ll still be alone.’ The demon whispered back before falling into a smug silence that almost made Angel wish he was still being taunted instead.

He was lost, everything had changed, and once again he had been left behind.

**********

Angel jumped as he felt a gentle hand on his back, cursing his failure to notice Spike approaching. He tensed, waiting for the violence to begin anew now he was naked and vulnerable, and was surprised instead to feel the gentle brush of a washcloth on his shoulder, carefully cleaning his wounds.

He turned slowly; his aching body not letting him do any more, until brown eyes met blue. He was surprised to see the pain in his boy’s eyes, having expected more gloating.

“I’m sorry Angel.” Spike told him sincerely.

Angel wasn’t sure how to reply to that, as it was the last thing he expected to hear from his childe.

“I let them use me. We both did.” Spike continued when it became obvious that Angel wasn’t going to speak.

“We let them play us each against each other and they nearly succeeded in destroying us both.”

“You were the one who nearly killed me, I seem to remember.” Angel replied.

“But I didn’t, did I?” Spike replied. “And if I had, you know I would have staked myself as well. I let myself get caught up in all their crap, and you’re right, I nearly did stake you. But if I had, once the reality came crashing back down on me, I would have taken that same stake and followed you to dust. Because I never could live without you before, so why would I be able to do it now?”

Angel didn’t speak for a minute, as he stared into Spike’s eyes, able to see the truth shining through there. He let his gaze drop to Spike’s torso, which was covered in almost as many cuts and bruises as his own.

His hand rose to trace one of the blemishes, almost of its own accord, and his gaze flicked back up to Spike’s face as it made contact, watching as Spike bit his lip to stop the whimper of pain that bubbled up at even that small touch.

“Angel?” He half whispered, half groaned.

“Not now.” Came the hushed reply as Angel turned and grabbed another washcloth before starting to clean Spike.

Spike didn’t know what to make of this, so he stood stock still for a moment, watching the path of Angel’s hands as they tended to him carefully.

After a few moments Spike began to reciprocate the action on Angel, returning his washcloth to Angel’s skin and continuing to clean him with the same care as Angel showed to him. They kept eye contact as much as possible, only looking away to make sure that they didn’t accidentally brush against painful spots.

The whole ritual was completed in silence, neither of them knowing what to say to each other without breaking the almost painful quiet.

All too soon all the blood and dirt had been removed, and all the wounds cleaned, and nothing was left to distract them any longer.

Without breaking the silence Angel turned the shower off, whilst Spike gathered the towels to dry them off. He handed one to Angel and was not entirely surprised when instead of using it on himself, Angel began to carefully dry him. He didn’t question this; he merely began to dry Angel off with his own towel.

**********

Once they were both dry, Angel took the towel from Spike and just dropped them both on the floor, before turning and heading for the bedroom.

Spike stood looking at Angel’s retreating back for a moment, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do now. After a few moments he shrugged to himself, groaning at the pain that shot through his aching muscles before following.

He found Angel standing in the kitchen with his back to him, pouring some warmed blood into two mugs. He ambled over as Angel turned and held one of the mugs out to him.

Taking the mug, he kept his eyes on Angel as he raised it to his mouth and took a sip of the warm liquid, before closing his eyes in bliss as the human blood slipped down his throat like the sweetest ambrosia.

When he reopened his eyes Angel was still watching him with a strange look on his face.

“Peaches?” he spoke softly, trying to get his attention.

“Angel?” he tried again. This time Angel focused on him properly. Spike took a step towards him, and gasped as Angel’s hand reached to his waist and pulled him closer still.

Angel rested his forehead against Spike’s, staring into deeply into his eyes.

“You okay Angel?” Spike asked as he felt Angel flex the hand on his waist, tightening his grip almost painfully.

Angel sighed softly, his cool breath fanning over Spike’s, making him flutter his eyelids. Angel reached his other hand up so that it was cupping the back of Spike’s neck possessively.

“You are right Will.” Angel spoke so softly that despite his enhanced hearing and their close proximity, Spike still had to strain to hear him.

“About what?” He whispered back just as softly.

“They tried to use us. Tried to turn us against one another.”

“But they didn’t succeed.”

“No they didn’t. But that doesn’t mean that they will stop trying either.” Angel warned him.

“We will be ready for them next time.” Spike reassured him.

“It may not be enough.” Angel sighed.

“Angel.” Spike spoke firmly, his voice loud and strong as his hands came up to cup Angel’s face. “I love you. I’ve been waiting for our time to come for more than a century. And I’m not going to let some fat-arsed Senior Partners get in my way now. Whatever happens we will deal with it, and we will do it together.”

“Together?” Angel whispered.

“Together. Always.” Spike affirmed.

Angel nodded and pulled Spike into a soft kiss. They both moaned at the contact, partly in pleasure and partly in pain from their still-split lips.

Spike pulled back a little and smiled, reaching down and taking one of Angel’s hands in his own.

“Come on Angel. We can plan all we like tomorrow, but tonight we both need to rest and heal.”

Angel nodded and handed Spike his blood back before picking up his own cup and letting Spike lead him towards the bedroom. Spike was right, whatever they needed to do, it could wait for tomorrow, as he knew that no matter what the Senior Partners tried to throw at them, they would survive it, and they would do it together.


End file.
